Dust and Echoes
by InvisibleRainX
Summary: One-shot, Or possible Short Fic. Team Westen are asked to deal with something that even they can't find a way out of.


_Dust and Echoes._

Arms crossed against his chest, a pouty and puzzled look sitting upon his face. Almost shocked as he stood before a possible client, trying to wrap his mind around the bizarre and insane stories that came from his fast paced and blabbering mouth. Michael stared at him, trying to wrap his mind around the information that was being spat at him, he wasn't taking any breaths. Each work mixed and shuffled with other words, he made no sense. None whatsoever. Michael slowly looked over so Sam, who stood beside the possible client and bit his bottom lip, embarrassed and starting to sweat from the utter shame of bringing this guy to Michael's door step.

"Ok, calm down..."

Having enough of the man's slurred and confusing dialog. Michael raised his hand out and halted him to stop, and settle his nerves. Calm himself and think before he started again. Taking a deep breath in, Michael tried his best to keep himself from turning his back...The only reason he was still standing there, listening was because Sam was so urgent, so persistent in having him listen and help the poor helpless guy out, little did he actually know what exactly the man's problem was...

The man stopped, sweat travelled and dripped from his forehead. His light brown eyes darting around the room, his hands quivered. He looked like a very restless, timid and nervous man as he stood there, his mind racing. The word, Nerd, came to Michael's mind as he studied him. He had that sort of persona written all over him, why? he wasn't too sure. At the same time, The man looked like he was mentally unstable by the sudden static outbursts, it was like he was out of breath, desperate to talk and unable to comprehend a single normal constructive sentence. He wore a striped button down shirt, sleeves rolled up. A wedding ring; the Man was married. His shirt was tucked in, tightly. A dark crimson leather belt straggling his waist. Wooden brown dress pants. His feet, he kept moving them, back and forth. Sort of like a boxer, dancing from side to side with each painful strike to the abdomen. Studying the man, who watched Michael intensely. His eyes so wide, so alert and frightened. Whatever it was, Michael knew this man wasn't going to take "No" for an answer; No chance whatsoever.

Impatient, anxious. He awaited for Michael to give him another chance in explaining. Realising his words, slurred and made no sense whatsoever. He cleared his throat, turning to Sam who nodded to him and looked to Michael, carrying a rather content look. Michael glanced at Sam, he could see that he really wanted him to hear the man out...

"Breathe... and think before you speak, if you want my help, I need to know _exactly _what I'm doing with"

Raising his eyebrows, giving the man a strict tone and look. He cleared his throat and licked his lips. His eyes still darted around the room as they moved Michael's gaze...

"I'm being stalked, they won't stop tormenting me... and my family, We've had to move three times in a month - I have two young kids, they just.. just keep finding us and hurting us..."

He stops, starting to sob. So desperate and helpless; he needed Michael's help, clearly...

"Did you go to the cops?"

Michael firmly asked, he knew Sam would throw him a rather disgusted look; ignoring it. Michael awaited for him to reply..

"Cops? they can't help with this!...I'm told only you can, I've heard what you can do!"

As he addressed him; Michael tilted his head back and let out a large loud sigh of annoyance. One of _those_ jobs...staring at the ceiling for a moment, he shot his head back down and stared at him...

"Do you know, who these men are?"

Michael asked softly, trying to get as much Intel as possible from the anxious father. Michael was only greeted with a dumbfounded look, his lips parted. Shocked..

"Men? these aren't no men..."

Baffled by his response, Michael shot a cocked eyebrow at Sam. Giving him a rather concerned and confused look only to receive the very same look from Sam. Sam cleared his throat and slowly started to place his palm over his face...Fool.

"Ok... Women?"

Michael shot only to have the client shake his head and turn straight to Sam...Lost for words, the client tried to get words out only to have Sam stare at him, confused. Turning to Michael, his hands started to shake violently as wind brushed passed them, sending chills down his arms...

"Ghosts!"

Michael blankly stared at the man, completely baffled. He just slowly looked to Sam...

"Ooh whoa! Ha-Ha! you need to call the Ghostbusters on this one, Pal!"

Sam choked, a wide grin on his face. He patted the timid client on the back only to have him flinch sky high from the instant contact to his back. Sam stepped back as the client jumped, the smile still sitting on his face, as he chuckled to himself...

"Who gave you the idea I could help you on... that?"

Michael asked as nicely as he could, clearing his throat. He did his best to keep a straight face, however as the client looked to Sam, Michael clenched his jaw...As the client turned to Sam, indicating that Sam was his source of information about Michael's expertise. Sam bounced back and raised his arms up, shouting..

"Whoa, Hey! Mike... he said the same thing to me! stalkers... Nothing about the paranormal getting involved!"

Sam explained, avoiding any sort of Michael's wrath. Michael just stared at him, glaring.

"Have you tried... Psychics? Mediums? Priests?"

Having no clue on how to deal with such a different and completely traumatic field. Michael asked the client if he had tried to seek help in a more, suited area of expertise before coming to him; Was he his last resort? His last cry for help? If so, how exactly was he to help him...

Receiving a grunt from the client, he started to shout.

"Yes! don't you think I've tried all of that? No one will help, you're my last resort!"

Michael cleared his throat, Shooting his eyes over to the client after he watched Sam, he gave him a small smile before moving over towards Sam...

"Sam..."

He roughly mumbled under his breath. Moving over towards the kitchen, Sam followed like a lost puppy, uncertain on what exactly was going to happen. Nervous, and anticipating Michael to scream at him. Sam bit his lip and gave Michael a rather adorable apologetic look...

"He's clearly got a mental illness of some sort...I can't help with that!"

Michael whispered to Sam, his eyes watching the client, who was fidgeting and looking around everywhere...Like a drug addict awaiting it's next fix...

"Actually, No. I ran a background check up on him. Nothing"

Rubbing the back of his head, Sam felt rather stupid for bringing him to Michael, However; in his defence, he had no idea the word "ghost" was going to escape the man's lips...

"He can't be serious?"

Looking over to the client, who was begging for them to answer his prayers - the desperation and tired look painted on his face. Michael honestly, was too baffled and lost in the concept to really give the man an answer, even his usual answer would be giving the man false hope at this point. Chasing a ghost?...

_**Author's Note:**_

_Dreams, Dreams Dreams. Oh how you amaze me! Not sure if this is a one shot, or a short fic to be honest. this was just a drabble out of fun? I really don't know!... However, I hope you all at least had fun with this.. I doubt that. you're all probably confused as much as Michael was!_


End file.
